


hechicería

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy And Her Huge Crush On Coulson, F/M, Fantasizing, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: Um... What it says on the tin? :)
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Listen to my voice I'll guide us through the dark





	hechicería

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know what I was thinking. But when do I ever.

Just because someone has the hots for you doesn’t mean they’re the right person to be with (and Daisy could write books about not being with the right person). But she can’t help it; knowing that someone has the hots for her pushes all of her buttons.  
Daisy has always been wired like that, but lately, she hasn’t always acted on that knowledge; she’s passed on some really attractive people, because secretly, they were not who she’s been daydreaming about. To be completely honest, she’s only really been daydreaming about one person, buttons or not. But he’s probably just not into her, or not really. The casual, playful flirting, while she enjoys it as much as ever, is driving her insane these days. And being able to cite him just makes daydreaming about him that much easier. It’s like someone’s written the lines for the movie in her head already.

„Director?“  
Daisy flinches, and not just a little bit, it’s more like an electric jolt. She turns around, shoulders sort of pulled up a bit.  
„Yeah?“  
It’s Hunter.  
„Aw, sorry,“ he tries. „Didn’t realize you were ... somewhere else.“ The smugness of his smirk is extremely disgusting.  
„I was. Not in the gutter, though.“ She gets up, half-heartedly nods at him to communicate she isn’t seriously annoyed, then leaves for the hangar. She’s got a job to do, after all. She can’t hang around in dark corners, thinking about Coulson. Not if she doesn’t want people to find out.

Sometimes, she feels so painfully obvious. For example, in the morning, when Coulson enters the kitchen all tousled, and she’s setting a mug in front of him. People must be seeing how much she wants to run her fingers through his bed hair, or cuddle up next to him with her own mug. The fact that the first place she runs to hide out after hard days is Lola doesn’t make her feel too stealthy either.  
But she can’t help it; every time she tries to persuade herself to stop getting butterflies around him, he smiles at her _like that_. Practically beams. Who would manage to stay cool in response to that smile, she really doesn’t know. Not her. 

Thankfully, Coulson seems to be completely oblivious to the terrarium in her stomach.

***

Then, during their next mission, everything changes. Coulson and Daisy are to infiltrate a Hydra-affiliated group and extract another agent to gather their collected intel. Daisy almost loses their target when Jemma, in her ear, comments on her undercover evening outfit. _Try not to leave Coulson too breathless. You know he’s_ in a state _whenever he’s with you already. Let the poor guy do his job._

She just glad they have backup, or else she would have had to call in that she’s lost their agent. They’re safe, but only thanks to the background team. Daisy hopes there won’t be too many rumours, because honestly, she’d had to stop to gasp loudly for a moment there. Three seconds wasted.

„You okay?“, Coulson asks when they’re back at the hotel.  
„Sure,“ Daisy says, hoping he didn’t see her blush, but let’s face it, he definitely has.  
„Tell me if you need anything“, he adds, and Daisy wants to say, _stop it or I’ll fucking take you up on that_ , but of course she doesn’t, because just because someone has the hots for you doesn’t mean they’re the right person to be with. And maybe Jemma was just teasing. Or mistaken. Or kidding. Who is Daisy to know.

„Night“, she says, disappearing into her adjoining room sooner than she normally would have felt comfortable to. She’s pretty sure Coulson’s still standing there in the living room area for a moment, looking at her closed door, before he disappears into his own room. Daisy almost feels bad for him, but hey, this would have gotten too embarrassing. She’s been so obvious anyway, she doesn’t need to make a fool of herself even more.

***

And of course, she can’t sleep. She can’t stop thinking about what Jemma half-jokingly said over their comms channel. She’s just glad no one else could have heard it. But it makes her toss and turn. _Try not to leave Coulson too breathless._. God. _You know he’s in a state whenever he’s with you already._  
Whatever that means, sweet Jesus. _In a state._ Huh.

And what if Jemma was right? Daisy feels indescribably hot at the idea, it’s a whole hot flash. Ugh, she really needs a vacation. She can’t allow herself any of this, and especially not as Director.  
_In a state._ This whole thing has gotten _her_ into a state, wow.  
But so what? She’s in a well-isolated hotel room, even separated from Coulson and his bed by a whole living room area. There’s no way he would be able to hear her. There’s no way he’s awake right now, anyway. She imagines him lying in bed, hair all tousled, curled up into his blanket, possibly naked under it. Damnit. She bets he sleeps with nothing on. 

She sees herself get up, take off her pyjama pants, tiptoe across their suite in nothing but a pyjama shirt and her panties. She wants to be able to sneak into his room and under the covers, to hug him, _touch him_. Ugh. She really needs to stop, but it’s too late, because now she imagines Coulson would be such a versatile and playful lover, all while making her feel safe the whole time. To be honest, she’s sure it’s unreal how considerate a lover Coulson is.

And there she goes, one hand pressed against her mouth, one hand pressed between her thighs.  
Okay.  
That’s new. And fucking ridiculous.  
Hopefully, he’s actually asleep.

She gets up to get her water bottle from the living room. Fuck her, this is getting too dangerous. Daisy feels so sweaty and pathetic, she actually gets rid of her pyjama pants first, ties her hair into a messy bed bun. She opens the door as carefully as possible, tiptoes to her bag, takes a sip of water, then another. Better.  
„Is it true?“  
Startled, Daisy turns around so quickly she almost stumbles. There, on the other side of the dark room, Coulson is sitting on one of the lounge chairs. She forces herself to swallow, takes one or two steps towards him.

„Wow, you scared me.“ Deep breath. „Is what true?“  
Coulson holds up his phone, shows her a text. Daisy walks up to him, notices the glass of whiskey on the small table. Trying not to tremble, she takes his phone. It could be anything, a mission, fake intel, whatever, but of course, it’s not.  
It’s a text from Elena.  
It’s from three hours earlier.

 _Be gentle with the Director. Simmons says she has_ una traga maluca. _Don’t tell anyone I told you! I just don’t want her to get hurt._  
  
Daisy swallows. Hard. She’s heard Elena use that phrase with others before.  
„Is it?“  
She realizes she hasn’t said anything in a while. Daisy sinks into the other chair, still holding his phone. Then, suddenly, she grabs his drink and downs it. It takes her a minute to catch her breath; the whiskey is quite strong. She slowly licks her lips.

She’s about to speak, probably to deny everything, when she sees Coulson. The emergency exit sign above him provides just enough light for her to see his face. He seems ... completely done for. His eyes are focused on her lips, and it takes her a moment to realize what’s going on. He looks breathless, and Daisy realizes ... she realizes Jemma was _right._

And she doesn’t need to be told again, she jumps up at the same time he does, and they’re all over each other. He tastes like whiskey and desperation and _ugh yes there_ , it’s absurd how well all of this works, it’s like someone planned this, because Coulson knows all of her fucking spots. And to be honest, it seems like she’s pushing all of his buttons too, because he’s panting like this is a matter of life and death. Maybe it is. 

Moments later, he’s throwing her onto his bed, then kisses her so gently she thinks she might cry from it. His hands are forming her like a sculpture, and Daisy does her best to keep doing what she’s doing, because this feels so good she could just stop and let things happen. This is new. She doesn’t think she would ever have let anyone go on with their thing before. Not in bed. Not when it’s about actual, literal sex. She tries to make a mental note of it, but Coulson is turning things around. She’s on top, and things are getting so dangerously close to the fantasy she just came to, Daisy kinda isn’t sure this is real.

She’s about to ask him to pinch her, but that’s when he pulls her panties down and freaking _asks her consent_ , and Daisy can’t, she would never have thought this up. The way he asks is so very Coulson, there’s no way she’s dreaming.  
„ _Fuck_ yes“, she manages, and it seems to do something to Coulson, because that groan is something else. It pulls at her insides, and things become a blur. Good thing this room is so well isolated.

***

„Wow“, Coulson whispers, later, as they’re both panting, and she couldn’t agree more. He lifts a hand to stroke her cheek, and it’s so gentle she could cry. She really could, but she won’t, because Coulson is the gentlest and the most considerate and the sexiest, and his hand is on her cheek for whatever reason, but it feels like it should be there.  
She smiles, and there it is again, Coulson beams at her, and Daisy feels something tug at her navel, okay, let’s go, but she needs to say this first.

„I fucking love you“, she croaks, and it feels both premature and dramatic, it’s a freaking Hail Mary. But then, she can see his face go through so many different emotions before he smiles again, like he can’t believe it but so wishes he could.  
He nods. „I love _you_ “, he whispers, she almost can’t hear it, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s kissing her again.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Hechicería_ means sorcery. Maybe it's weird, but I was listening to _Malagueña salerosa_. Sorry :)
> 
>  _Una traga maluca_ is a metaphor for an unrequited crush. I read it's frequently used in Colombia and hope that's true.


End file.
